Jim's Slow Death
by LadyCerise1891
Summary: He considered transferring. His uncle didn't have kids, so that was an option. He could abandon years of careful dodging of the law and get caught in the middle of one his many pranks. Military school was looking appealing even. Anything that wasn't watching Pam date Roy. The downside would be not seeing Pam at all. He blamed her Jelly Beans. High school A/U.
1. Chapter 1

Jim Halpert watched the library assistant from across the room. Her curly auburn hair caught the florescent light just right to show off it's natural streaks fo gold. His heart beat doubled when she lifted her gaze from her stack of returns to smile his way.

She looked around, and waved him over as she was sure the librarian wasn't around. Playing coy, he acted like he wasn't sure what she could want until he knew she would give up on him. Not caring that he was a day behind in homework, he abandoned his course work and wandered her way.

"What's up, Beesly?" She offered him a jelly bean from her bag, which he accepted without question. "You're just trying to get me fat so you can have me all to yourself."

"You wish." He managed to not choke on his Jelly Bean. "So, how are things on the Dwight front?"

"Not bad. I'm making headway." He ducked his head to look back at his stuff. "Right now I'm working on filling his locker with Jell-O. By that I mean, I got here at an ungodly hour and filled his locker with Jell-O."

She snorted and shuffled some books to give the appearance of working. "How did you manage that?"

"I went to some dark places, Pam." He grabbed one of the books. "There are some real sickos on the internet these days. The chat rooms I came across would give you nightmares."

"Yeah, sure." She absentmindedly took the book from his hands and scanned it in. "I've had to use Roy's shower. Not much can scare a girl after that."

Jim felt the usual sick feeling in the pit of stomach kick up. "I bet not." He took a deep breath and forced it out without gagging. "Now that image is in my head. Thanks. I thought we were friends."

She rolled her eyes and leaned in close. "You know we are," she whispered. His brow raised in mock surprise. "Shut up, Jim. You're my best friend."

"Not Kelley?"

Jan came storming through the entrance, forcing the two to flinch away from each other. By habit, Jim grabbed a random book from the pile of returned books at Pam's elbow and walked off. Pam murmured a hello to the older woman, not even reacting as a jacket was tossed her way.

Realising his moment had passed, Jim gathered up his things. With one last wave her way, he left her to her work. The last remnants of the summer heat were already slipping away with the start of his Junior year. The cool morning air was almost always good to clear his head whenever he spent time with her.

He'd lived in Scranton since he was 3. The clown picture permanently attached to the wall in his dinning room was absolutely terrifying and he had no clue why it was there or when it had appeared. That being said, the most terrifying thing in his life was the fact that he was in love with his best friend. His best friend, who was wonderful and perfect, but who happened to be dating someone else.

"Late to class, again, I see." He rolled his eyes as his cover was blown. "And sneaking in. Very mature."

"Yeah, Angela," he sighed and looked up to meet the eyes of his teacher. "I was in the library looking for some books."

"What subject?"

He sighed and angled his long frame into his horrifically small desk. "Shut up, Dwight?" The boy next to him smirked, pleased with his personal accomplishment. "Hey, have you been to your locker yet today?"

The boy's eyes narrowed before they went wide. "You wouldn't." Jim shrugged. "What did you do, Halpert?"

"What did I what?"

Dwight cried in frustration, shooting out of his seat. "Mr. Schrute, please sit down." The boy ignored the teacher, sprinting from the room. "Why, Halpert?"

"Why not, Mr. Flenderson?"

The man sighed, his basset hound face looking more mopey than usual. He sighed, a broken man as he realised that he had no available options for the current debacle. With no real power over his pupils, he went back to droning about the ethics textbook none of them with the exception of Angela paid any attention to.

 _A/N: I am massively transparent with what shows I'm watching, aren't I? I'm also a mush ball. Jim and Pam for life! Enjoy. Love from this cheeseball writer._


	2. Chapter 2

The football team was always easy to pick out. Why? Normal humans would cite their size or ability to make enough noise to cause temporary deafness. For Jim, it was a very vital, non-player add-on.

"Oh, I have to talk to Jim about the thing." She gave Roy a kiss and jogged his way. "Jim, I need to talk to about a thing."

"What thing? I have to do homework, Pam." He proceeded to toss his book in his bag, following her without any real fuss. "My studies are very important. You are a deviant and a bad influence."

She laughed out right at his lacklustre grouching. "You've found me out." She stopped almost as soon as the cafeteria doors closed behind them. "I'm trying to make sure your grades are abysmal so you can't go to a good school. You'll just have to go to community college with me."

"Ah, Beesly all you had to do was ask." That was when he realised he was too close, having nearly run into her when she stopped. "Cause you seem to have an unlimited supply of Jelly Beans. Clearly you are either the heir to a vast Jelly Bean fortune or a fairy. I'm assuming fairy because you're so short."

She snickered and grabbed his shirt to drag him behind her. He smiled, everything right in his world. She was taking him somewhere, could be the middle of the woods to kill him, but it was wonderful since it was just them. His neck heated like it always did when she would single him out.

"So, uh, the woods are in the other direction. The only logic ting you could be showing me is murder. You are going to kill me, I presume." She tossed a wicked smile over her shoulder and he felt his head go fuzzy. "Well, that was completely not helpful. I'm getting a little concerned about your motives now."

"I wanted to show you something."

She didn't drop her hand even after he was following so closely that he was practically looming over her. She would look at him every now and again, beaming. He wanted to scream with how much torture she was unwittingly putting him under.

He finally couldn't resist leaning down, whispering in her ear. "You're a hitman, aren't you, Pam? You can tell me."

"Shut up. I'm taking you to the art hall, dummy." He looked around curiously and realised she was right. "I wanted to show you something."

"So you've said."

She gave him the finger but winked when his face fell. "Don't worry, Halpert." He followed her into the ceramics class, curiosity growing. "Full disclosure, I'm terrible at ceramics."

He smirked in disbelief. "Right, Pam Beesly, artist extraordinaire isn't good at something. Next you're going to tell me that you aren't going to be captain of the volleyball team."

Her shoulders tensed and his groan was audible. "Pam, you have got to be kidding me. Why aren't you going to be captain? You're the best player we have."

"Listen, some of us can't do it all, okay. I just can't make it work." She relaxed as he gently urged her to turn around. "I just have to give up some things this year. Roy can't be held back, again. So, I'm going to help him study."

Jim scowled openly, unable to swallow his dissatisfaction at her situation. "You aren't responsible for him, Pam. He's the one getting himself put on academic probation." She glared and rubbed her shoulder where his hand had been as if he had burned her. "Pam, I'm just worried about you. You've already been stretched so thin meeting his needs. You need something for yourself. It's your future on the line, too."

"Yeah, I know."

He was so sick of hearing that empty phrase. Her "yeah, I know" was all he ever heard in regards to Roy, even when he wasn't the one she was talking to. The revolving door of their "Roy" conversations was making him dizzy. He was trying to just be happy for her, but his feelings made it difficult. His feelings and the glaring neon sign of her own dissatisfaction, that is.

"Yeah, okay, Pam." He sighed and nudged her. "Hey. What did you want to show me?"

"That's not it, is it?" She narrowed her eyes, and for a second he was afraid she would make him explain his outburst. "Fine, but you won't keep dodging me, you know." He chuckled nervously and let her pull him to where the projects were being stored. "So, like I said, I'm not good at this sort of thing. I tried really hard, though."

"Right, but quit stalling." She nervously began going through the various shelves. "Come on. Put up or shut up." She whipped her head around, eyebrows raised. "You heard me."

"You're blushing." He ran a through his hair and lowered his head. "Too late, I already saw it. Saving it to use against you later."

She finally turned around with her hands full of her prize. "I worked really hard," she repeated, took a deep breath and raised the object for his approval. "And yes, it is for you."

He looked down, more than a little flustered at the figurine. There in her small hands was a baseball glove. Laying on its back and clearly meant to be used as a bowl of sorts.

"I'm sorry, but did you make me a little baseball glove coin bowl in memory of the time I almost died." She was clearly holding back her laughter, eyes getting watery from the effort. "I nearly die by way of spider bite in gym class and you decide to immortalise it as a useful, thoughtful ceramics project."

She nodded as her lip began to quiver. "You were the first person I thought of when we were assigned to make a knick-knack for the start of term project. Don't you like it?"

"Like it?" He wondered how he was holding himself back, then realised he didn't exactly have to. "I love it, Pam. Thank you."

He proceeded to fold his lanky frame around hers. Her petite figure was easy to envelope in his long arms, and he revealed in the feel of her increasing heart rate. Her breathing sped up as she returned the embrace. He tried to ignore the groan of content locked in the back of his throat.

"Well, I'm glad." She pat his back a few times and he took the hint that the hug was going on too long. "You can't have it yet. I need to add some detail work, I guess? And it needs to be glazed and fired."

He nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them off her waste. Being her friend was the hardest part of his day, but it came with benefits. When he transferred in at the end of his sophomore year and met the frizzy haired girl, he thought he was half in love with het. Ever since he'd stumbled lost and aggravated into the library when he was supposed to be in third period, and met her sympathetic smile, he was a goner.

"You really are something else, Beesly."

It was her turn to blush as she tried to play off the less than plutonic hug. Eyes bright, she met his unguarded gaze with a searching look of her own. He wanted, desperately to say the how he felt. He always wanted to say how he felt, but like every other time, realty came crashing in the form of her being a good girlfriend.

"Well, thanks, Halpert." She punched his arm. "So are you."

He laughed, and took a step back so she could put her project away. Once that was taken care of, they began a slow return to the lunch room. All the eagerness gone, neither seemed willing to rush their return to the real world. It was those moments, the drawn out ones that she seemed just as determined to stay in, that gave him hope that maybe he did have a chance.

He just had to wait. Which, upon reaching their destination and Roy, he was continuously reminded of the fact that that was the hardest part of all. As she kissed Roy hello, and snuggled up to him, Jim very much wished he had never met Pam Beesly at all.

 _A/N: hope you enjoyed. The chapters will get longer and more characters will come in. Promise. Reviews are awesome, and thank you to those who have left them. Much love from this cheeseball writer._


	3. Chapter 3

"So, did you get the flyer about skipping the SAT's this year?" Jim snorted and continued rifling through his bag, a trick he had developed soon after Pam had started walking with him to their afternoon classes. "Oh, come on, Jim. You are friends with him."

"Yes I am friends with Andy, but no there is no way is it Andy." She rolled her eyes and punched his shoulder, forcing him to abandon his task for a moment to apologise to the passerby's he accidentally ran into. "Rude. Seriously, though. It's not Andy. Besides, he goes to my old school."

"Yeah, well, then he works fast."

Jim involuntary steadied her as she fell into him while dodging a group of kids. His fingers tingled like always whenever he got to touch her. She met his gaze and both silently decided to ignore the blush creeping up his neck. She moved away first, like always.

"Well, any way, there's no way Andy could have orchestrated things at his school let alone manage to get it to spread this far." Jim went back to searching for nothing in his bag. "He is oddly good at getting people to rally behind an idea that seems not to be his. Never gets in trouble."

"You'll get there."

"Dammit, Andy." He gave up his meaningless task and squinted into the afternoon sun. "Wait, why are we going outside?"

"Are we outside?" She skipped ahead go him. "I just wanted some fresh air. You were surprisingly easy to lead out here. You didn't look up at all except for the times you ran into someone."

He watched her fall to the lawn, content a light on her face. He kept his distance for a few seconds, content himself to watch her. Eventually she signalled him over and he easily dropped to her side.

"What's up, Pam?" She shook her head, dropping an arm over her eyes. "Okay, so where is Roy taking you tonight?"

"I think I'm getting dragged to another party. I don't wanna go to another party. There are never any girls I know there." He nodded, knowing she couldn't see him. "What's that face for?"

"Oh, you're looking at me." He quickly schooled his face to get rid of his bitter scowl. "Well, since you saw that I'm going to go with that it's not fair that you have to do that."

"I don't have to."

He sighed and gave her his usual lopsided grin. "Let's go ahead an blow past it. Sure, you have a choice. What party?"

"I don't know. Something on the rich side." She winked. "Far away from the quarry."

"Okay, you know what? Low bow." He got up from the ground, brushing off his pants and offering her a hand. "Come on, rude girl. We actually do have to get to 5th period. Mr. Flenderson is two weeks into his separation and if I'm not there to drive Dwight crazy, he may just sink too low into his self loathing."

"Don't you have him for home room, too?

"Yes, I do. I also have most of those same people in my class as home room." He realised that she hadn't removed her hand from his yet. "Fun fact, Coach Micheal came in and had a yelling breakdown, twice, this morning."

She snorted, dropping his hand, but seemed hesitant to move away from him. He hid his smile and flexed his now empty hand. She leaned up against him as he tried spying the room to see if Flenderson was paying attention to the door.

"I think we can get in." He opened the door, signalling her stay quiet, but gave up the endeavour as soon as Angela decided to call him out on his attempt. "At least, we could have if Angela wasn't so observant."

"No need to be sarcastic." She scowled and flipped her ponytail over her shoulder defiantly. "Besides, if you weren't so busy necking another man's girlfriend you could have been on time."

"Okay, first of all who says "necking?" Jim urged Pam to go to her seat while he locked himself into a battle of wits with the local preacher's daughter. "Secondly, rude. God, I'm saying that a lot lately. Thirdly, how is that even necessary?"

"Jim, are you okay?" He turned on the teacher with a lowered brow. "You look keyed up."

He sighed and shook his head. "Whatever, Mr. Flenderson. I'm not," he paused. "Dwight, have you seen your car keys?"

Dwight's eyes widened, nostrils flaring as he began furiously digging through his various pockets. "How? I don't even know what pocket of my parachute pants I put them in. It's random." He slammed his fist onto his desk. "Tell me!"

"You don't need to announce that they're parachute pants. We could see them from space if we wanted." He swept a raised brow around the room. "Good thing we don't want to. Anyway, that is for me to know and you to never figure out."

He stepped aside as the boy in question rushed passed him. "That is so much better. You're right, Mr. Flenderson, I was feeling keyed up." He shook the teachers hand. "You are really much more perceptive than you look."

Pam's eyes twinkled as they air high-fived across the room. Flenderson passed them both a sore look. Jim commenced with getting with his stuff out, the usual sign that his pranks, the obvious ones, were done for the moment.

"Fine. I'll get started." He looked at the door mournfully and returned to reading from the psych book, like always. "So, Freud is kind of wrong. There is no solid correlation between gender and preferred parent."

"Is that because you can't stop fantasying about your mother when you mastribate?" Jim leaned back as best he could in the small desk, hiding a smirk behind a fist, watching as his basketball coach entered with no ceremony to lay into poor Mr. Flenderson. "I bet you cry, too. Like, just in general. You cry, don't you. Of course you do. You're 40 something and living with you mom, again. You know? Cause you're getting a divorce."

"Is that necessary?" Angela sat up straighter, a high horse for her to climb on in sight. "I mean, yes, clearly he's unable to keep the sanctity of marriage. I, for one, do not want to hear about my teacher's alone time habits. I'm certain that God would agree."

"You would know." She whipped around to toss a nasty glare at Jim. "About God, I mean. You're dad's a junior pastor, right? Still."

She deflated a bit. He didn't look away until she turned back around to face the front of the class. When that was accomplished, he passed a wide eyed look toward Pam, trying to convey how close he had been to shitting his pants. The coach groaned in frustration, knocked Flendrson's book out of his hand and stormed out. Jim felt bad for him, getting up and picking up the book before closing the door behind the unnecessarily irate shorter man. Returning to his seat, he fiddled with his mechanical pencil to keep from watching Pam.

"Where are they, Jim!" The class had made it five minutes before Dwight burst into the room, out of breath and sweating. "How? How do you do these things, you pretentious ass?"

After some considerable yelling on the part of Dwight, Jim simply tossed the keys in question his way. Dwight attempted a karate move, but ended up tripping after misjudging where a backpack was. Jim pulled him up and assisted him into the desk beside him.

After the class, Jim hung behind to receive his usual reprimand from Mr. Flenderson. He was one of the few teachers who actually seemed like he wanted something more than Scranton High out of his life, so Jim let him go through the motions of being an influence on him.

Upon exiting the room, he realised Pam wasn't waiting for him like she usually was. Being taller than most of the student body had it's benefits as he spied her being lead off, giggling, by Roy to the gymnasium. Feeling his mood sour, he made his way to his next class, knowing that she wouldn't make it to the last two classes of the day.

"Where's your other half, Halpert?" He met the teacher's eyes. "She is what this time, Jim?"

"Cramps, Mr. Martinez."

"You are so disgusting." Angela tapped her foot, expectant as always for reasons he could not understand. "She's having intercourse with her boyfriend, isn't she. Out with it."

"I will not, and you sound like your baiting me to tell you. So where does that leave us?" She nervously flicked her ponytail over her shoulder, which he had realised was her tick for literally every emotion. "That's what I thought. You look nice today."

He stewed in his gloom for the rest of day. He tried to swallow his mood for basketball practice, knowing that the coach would be on top of it first thing. Could Coach Mike actually coach? Debatable, but he could read people and it was hard to watch him trying to be inspirational.

"You okay there, Big Jim?" He smiled goofily and shook his head. "That's my guy. Big Jim. Gonna be our star this year? Yeah you are. Okay."

He shook his head, dreading, while simultaneously looking forward to it in a way. It was possible that he was being brainwashed by these idiots. It was an odd thing to embrace, but it was momentary. High school would end, and he would go away to college and never come back.

As practice ended, he realised he had been paged twice by Andy. "What's up, man?" He ignored the passerby's as he tried to keep the payphone nestled into the crook of his neck. "No, don't start singing. Stay on topic."

"Fine. Listen, I heard there's a party in your area tonight and I want in." Jim rolled his eyes. "Come on, man. Help me out. I'll bring a chick for you. She's turned me down like five times, so, she's all good."

"Dude."

"Seriously, are you gay?"

"Dude!" He strangled the phone but for reasons unknown didn't hang up. "Listen, I can't get you in because I'm not going. Let it go." He checked his watch and sighed in relief at the time. "I have to go, Andy. I'll call you later, or you'll call me, most likely."

He hung up before Andy could start singing. He wandered over to the bike rack, playing with his meagre key ring. When he looked up, he was surprised to see Pam waiting at the rack.

"Wassup, Beesly? Shouldn't you be at practice?" He tried laughing but couldn't muster the energy. "You'e on probation already, aren't you?"

"I just can't play for a couple of weeks." She sniffled, and dove into his arms before he could finish opening them for her. "I'm not super smart, am I?"

"You probably shouldn't let him talk you into skipping two periods of class. I, for one, said you had cramps so I did my job." She gave a watery chuckle. "My sister uses it all the time. Solid excuse."

She whimpered and he rubbed her back. "Oh, come on, Pam. How can I help? Anything."

"Come to the party tonight?" She looked up at him, eyes red. "Please! Everyone thinks you're so cool. Too cool, even, and you are my best friend. Please come and talk to me?"

He groaned, knowing that he couldn't talk her down. She knew it, too. He was starting to wonder just how much she knew. She was already smiling before he could even get around to nodding his head.

"Fine. As if I could say no."

 _A/N: Hope you enjoy. I'm having to do things a bit different from the show clearly. Thanks for reading the reviews and encouragement. Love from this cheeseball writer._


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